I had to have an upper GI x-ray series this morning to look for some scar tissue in my belly. This is the test where you drink barium and then they take x-rays, following it all the way through your digestive tract. My brother and I have found that we are both cursed with some of the slowest digestion known to man. The instructions warn that you could be at the test for 2-4 hours. My mom is usually there for less than two. This is my 4th or 5th time having one of these, and I'm never less than 3. Today's test started at 8. The time I finished? 1:20. Thrilling.

I must say up front that they've come a long way in the ways of the barium consumption. The first time I had one of these x-rays was probably 1990, and they wanted me to keep drinking cup after cup of this thick, chalky crap that made me burp after every sip. That was horrendous. Thankfully, it's gotten gradually less offensive over the years. I never understood how there wasn't an easier way for this, though. Most people having this test are doing so because they are having some sort of gastric upset - why make them drink stuff that is only going to aggravate the problem and make them feel worse? It's brilliant, really. ANYway, today I was very pleased to be greeted with about eight ounces of watered-down smooth liquid barium to chug while initial pictures were taken. The taste is still a bit chalky, but after not having anything to eat or drink for 12 hours, it was almost welcome. Almost. About three minutes later I was asked to drink about 6 more ounces and that was the extent of my drinking for the day. Woo! The next plan of action was to take an x-ray every half hour to track the progress and see what's happening down in the land of Pam's belly. As soon as everything had moved through, I was free to go. Sounds quick and easy, right? Well, at least the easy part was correct.

I spent most of my time between rays relaxing in a small little dressing room. I was actually quite happy to finally have time to get back to a book that I've been neglecting in favor of my busy TV viewing schedule. After my first check-in, I was just diving into the next chapter of my book when a bed was rolled by in the hallway and parked not to far down the way. Then it started. The honking. There was a woman on the bed and something was causing her to make this incessant honking sound. It was mildly disturbing, but also quite curious because I couldn't for the life of me figure out how she was making that sound. She was soon wheeled away and I was left in peace, but stewing with unresolved wonder. I want to know about the honking. THE HONKING!!!

Then came Anthony. The previous two x-ray technicians were women, but this time a little hottie came to get me. "I'm Anthony," he said as he led me into the x-ray room and instructed me to lie on my back. Bom-chicka-bom-bom. Woo! Well, not really. But still. Whenever the techs get you ready for the next x-ray, they always have to fiddle around and line you up perfectly for the best shot - this is usually centered by your pelvic bones. Well that poor Anthony couldn't get my pelvic bones lined up quite right, so he just had to keep on touching them and moving my hips ever so slightly. I was trying not to laugh as I kept thinking to myself, "Is it wrong that this is turning me on a little?" It's such a sterile and unsexy environment, I'm in a johnny for crying out loud, yet the hot tech working my hips can still work a little magic. God bless him. He was also chivalrous enough to notice my chills and slip a robe on me. Hospital erotica. Who knew?
[Oh wait, I did have another hospital erotica experience the last time I had surgery. He was the hottest resident I have EVER seen. He stopped by one day when Lucy was visiting and had gotten paged while talking to us. When he went to look at his pager, his shirt lifted up slightly, exposing just a tad of his stomach, and both Lucy and I were immediately drawn to it, staring in awe. He was HOT. I woke up one morning to find him leaning over my bed. I think I said 'hello' a little lustily. Blame it on the meds! Damn, I need to hang out in hospitals more]

Every time I went back in to be checked, I kept hoping this would be the time I could go home, but no dice. After two more x-rays and another hour and a half of waiting, I had finished my book and become quite famished. I just sat there for a few minutes, thinking that David Blaine must be an absolute lunatic. I asked if I could eat something and they approved, just saying that I had about twenty minutes before my next x-ray so I had to make sure to be back by then. I didn't want to get fully dressed only to come back and take it all off again, so I just threw on my t-shirt and jeans and threw a jacket on. I left off my other t-shirt and to save time, my bra. As I was heading into the cafeteria I noticed the huge lunchtime crowd - it was at this moment that it finally sunk in that I was traipsing around the busy dining hall with no bra on in a t-shirt that had the word 'Flirt' blazened across my chest. Shit. If there was any one shirt that would draw attention to the fact that I was the braless wonder, it was the one I had on. I tried to blend in and lie low as best I could as I salivated over all of the food. When I brought my food up to the register, the first words out of the cashier's mouth were, "So, you're a flirt, eh?" Gah.

When I got upstairs and unwrapped the piece of roofing tile that the hospital calls a 'hamburger,' I learned that a lot of ketchup can make almost anything edible. I think my hallucinatory starvation also added to my ability to eat half of that damn thing. It was the skankiest hamburger I've ever had in my life. I don't even know if hamburgers can be skanky, but this one was. I then started thinking again that David Blaine is a lunatic. I was finally brought in for my final go-round about 15 minutes later and then granted my freedom. Whee!!! Sadly, I was never brought in by Anthony again. But that's okay, because I came away from today's adventure with three valuable learnings:

1. Never eat a hospital hamburger.

2. David Blaine is a lunatic.

3. Wearing no bra is kinda fun.

Celebrity Boyfriend of the Day: George Clooney
You knew I'd get around to him one of these days, didn't you? Handsome, dapper, funny, AND doesn't want kids? Yahtzee!

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before & after





2007-09-26 - Follow Me!
2006-09-30 - Site Move & Favorite Entries
2006-09-25 - Evil Easter Bunnies & Rock Climbing!
2006-09-22 - Shameful-Purchase Hiding & A New Dentist Plan
2006-09-19 - Birthday Picture/Video Diary & The Wheelmobile





Copyright 2003-2006 by Sockgirlie. Stealing is wrong.